


Smile for the Camera

by demoncow97



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Athlete Ryuji, M/M, Model Akira, famous au, pegoryuweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demoncow97/pseuds/demoncow97
Summary: When Ryuji was offered to model for the cover of a popular sports magazine, he had been in a state of disbelief for like a week. It was a great opportunity for him, but there was one problem... He could not take a good picture for the life of him.If only he could get some help from a professional...
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113





	Smile for the Camera

Ryuji would never consider himself to be famous.

Yes, he was an athlete at the national level, and yes, he was training to compete at the Olympics, but that didn’t make him a celebrity or anything. He had a media following but nothing abnormal (there were plenty of dogs with more followers than him). Any fans he had were either his friends or fans of sprinting in general.

In terms of sports, track and field did not have the following that more popular team sports did, and that was fine. Sure there were famous sprinters, but they were few and far between.

And not being famous never bothered Ryuji, since he ran for the love of it and nothing more. Well, he wanted to win too, but that was a given.

So when he was offered to model for the cover of a popular sports magazine, Ryuji had been in a state of disbelief for like a week.

His first thought was that they must have sent the offer to the wrong guy. But no, his name was clearly there on the email, so that was a no-go. His next gut-reaction was to turn the whole thing down, if only because surely the magazine could find someone better than _him_ for the _front-cover_.

However, after some encouragement from his friends and a reminder that sprinting was not, in fact, a monetarily lucrative enough career that he could afford to turn down all advertisement deals sent his way, he wrote back saying he was excited for the job.

Well, technically his coach sent the email, but Ryuji agreed to the whole thing.

But even after plenty of time for mental preparation and some pointers from Ann, who’d been doing shoots like these since high school, Ryuji still felt nervous as hell on the site of the photoshoot.

The environment was nothing like what Ryuji was used to. There was a similar bustling and tense energy to what he felt before a race, but in a totally different way. People rushed by, hurrying from one station to another, while Ryuji was being given some brief instructions on what he was supposed to be doing (which he probably should have payed more attention to.)

For someone who lived and thrived in a high-stress environment, it should not be as overwhelming as it felt.

“Okay, we’re ready to get started in fifteen minutes, let us know if you need anything Mr. Sakamoto,” a photographer explained.

Ryuji cringed at being addressed so politely.

“Uh, sure,” Ryuji agreed awkwardly, hoping no one had noticed how little he had been paying attention.

The photographer smiled. “It’s okay to be nervous, we understand you’ve never done this before,” they said supportively.

Ryuji smiled back, grateful he hadn’t been given some hard-ass to oversee his shoot today.

“Thanks man, I’ll do my best!”

While waiting for his turn, Ryuji couldn’t help but watch the guy being photographed before him.

The raven-haired man looked familiar, in a way that Ryuji was sure he’d seen him in magazines or something before. The man exuded such an energy, that Ryuji couldn’t help but almost feel mesmerized as he watched.

From the subtle facial expressions, to the extravagant poses, this guy knew exactly what he was doing. He must be the world’s best model, because Ryuji couldn’t bring himself to think of anyone who looked such a mixture of definitely posing for the camera and just casually looking amazing.

To his utter embarrassment, the model must have noticed Ryuji staring, since he turned slightly to meet Ryuji’s eyes, before sending him a small wink and getting back to work.

Now feeling even more frazzled than when he’d gotten here, Ryuji was starting to regret taking the job all over again.

But there was no time to think up any type of excuse, since before he knew it, someone was calling his name.

“Mr. Sakamoto, if you would please follow me, we have your outfit and makeup artist waiting,” a new person explained.

Ryuji gulped and nodded. 

He was led into a side room full of large mirrors. There were several other people getting their makeup done as well (Ryuji would like to note that they were all freaking good looking). Mannequins were also littered throughout the space, some wearing half sewn garments and others with complete ensembles.

After Ryuji was sat down by yet another staff member, his preparations were done extremely quickly. The makeup they put on him was minimal, mainly to even out his skin tone (or so they told him) and accentuate his features. Ryuji honestly didn’t notice too much of a difference by the time they were done.

The clothes they had for him were much more up his alley than the hair and makeup stuff. They were pretty well just typical athletic clothes, consisting of a tank-top, some running shorts and a track-jacket. The stuff was all top of the line brand material, but at the end of the day they could be mistaken for Ryuji’s average workout outfit.

It made sense though, given this was a shoot for a sports magazine. With all the other models around here dressed in layers upon layers of stylish clothing and accessories, Ryuji had almost started to panic that they were gonna hold him to that standard as well. But a workout outfit, Ryuji could do.

After several people looked him over, with a few comments that led to some added gel to spike his hair and some more definition for his eyebrows, Ryuji was cleared for the photoshoot to begin.

He walked stiffly back to the photoset, the set with the greenscreen backdrop now emptied and waiting for him.

“Okay Mr. Sakamoto, we’re just going to get you to stand where that marked tape on the floor is, and then play around with the lighting before we get started,” the woman, who Ryuji had been introduced to as the director, said.

“Uh sure, but just call me Ryuji, okay?” he asked, since the whole ‘Mr. Sakamoto’ thing was just making him more nervous.

“Whatever works better for you, Ryuji,” the director nodded.

Ryuji moved to the indicated area, standing there awkwardly while awaiting further instruction.

He’d never realized just how many people were needed for a single photoshoot. Ryuji assumed it would be him, a photographer and maybe a director, but no. There were people adjusting lighting and a whole staff team on computers, along with multiple photographers.

Ryuji could feel himself sweat a bit through his tank top with all these eyes scrutinizing him so closely.

Ryuji was used to crowds at his races, but he never payed much attention to them. At the track it was just him and the finish line, but here he couldn’t help but notice the gazes of all these professionals. They could probably see his new sweat stains with those fancy cameras too.

“Okay Ryuji, lighting is good so we’re going to get started now!”

Ryuji gulped but nodded at the director’s words.

“Just let me know what ya want,” Ryuji answered.

“Well, we really want to showcase your athletic power and intensity today, so no smiling. Show the camera your best game face, and we’ll direct how we want your body positioned,” the director explained.

“Uh, gotcha…”

No smiling? But what if Ryuji’s game face was smiling?

Usually when he was psyching himself up, he found himself grinning, even in the most challenging competitions. But whatever. Ryuji could do this! He could look serious and intense; it couldn’t be that hard.

Ryuji then forcefully pulled his mouth into a tight frown, squinting slightly at the main camera in front of him.

“Try to relax for the camera,” the director suggested. “We don’t want it to look too forced.”

So Ryuji shifted his facial expression.

And then again. And again…

But every time, something was wrong. He looked too angry, or too sad, or too constipated. And it wasn’t like Ryuji disagreed with the director, even he felt off. Looking into the camera just made Ryuji feel so on edge, that no matter how many times he was told to relax, he just couldn’t do it.

The team was starting to get frustrated too. They didn’t say anything, but Ryuji could tell by their body language. The louder clicking from the computer mice and the harsher whispers to each other were telling enough.

After ten minutes, the director sighed loudly. “Let’s take a quick break,” she called.

Ryuji slumped his shoulders, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration.

The director made her way over to Ryuji and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you step out for a moment and take a breather. I know this is your first time doing this, so you’re just going to have to find a way to feel more at ease in front of the camera,” the director suggested.

Ryuji bit his lip in frustration. “I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll get this, I won’t let you down.”

The director nodded at him, before letting him head out of the studio. Ryuji immediately made his way toward a vending machine he’d seen earlier, hoping a cold drink might help cool his head.

People he passed smiled at him, but Ryuji was too busy brainstorming ideas on how to not completely screw up the rest of this photoshoot, to notice them. But as much as he tried to think, he couldn’t even picture what sort of face he should make. He thought about the way other athletes looked in magazines, but there was no way he could mimic them.

Reaching the vending machine, Ryuji stuck a hand into his pocket only to realize that these weren’t his clothes, meaning there was no change in them. Ryuji released an exaggerated sigh. Was the rest of the day going to be like this?

But before Ryuji could turn and stomp his way somewhere else (he hadn’t thought that far ahead), a stranger was at his side putting coins into the machine.

Ryuji paused, looking on jealously, and considering whether to ask if he could pay this person back later, but decided instead to accept his vending machine defeat.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

“Do you like Manta?” the stranger asked, which took Ryuji a second to realize the question was aimed at him.

“Wait, you mean me?” Ryuji still asked, getting a real look at the stranger.

And to his horror (at least that’s why his heart must have stopped for half a second), the stranger offering to buy him a drink was the same model he’d been watching before. The one who was even better looking up close.

“Yes, you,” the model chuckled, finger tapping lightly over the glass of the vending machine.

“Uh, sure. Thanks!” Ryuji said.

Manta was his favourite, so as much as Ryuji wanted to run away before his awkward staring got brought up, he wasn’t going to turn one down.

The model pushed the Manta’s corresponding buttons and they watched in silence as the drink slowly fell off the metal holding in, which the glasses-wearing boy retrieved and handed to Ryuji.

“Seriously dude, this was super nice of you,” Ryuji said, popping the lid open and listening to the drink fizzle. “I promise I’ll pay ya back.”

“Don’t worry about it, it was my treat,” the model assured with a smile.

Ryuji was going to push but decided to accept the act of kindness.

“Uh, you were really good in your shoot,” Ryuji remarked, almost subconsciously trying to prolong the conversation so he didn’t have to go back to looking like an idiot in front of the camera. “I only did like ten minutes of mine and I’m almost ready to throw in the towel.”

The model raised an eyebrow at that. Or at least Ryuji thought he did, it was a little hard to see under the thick layer of bangs resting on his forehead.

“Well I can give you a few pointers if you’d like?” the model suggested.

Ryuji gaped, resisting the urge to ask again if the model was actually talking to him. But as much as Ryuji wasn’t a big fan of asking for help, especially from strangers, this could be his only chance to pull off this photoshoot. Not just for himself, but for everyone working on this magazine.

“Actually, that would be a huge help!” Ryuji accepted gratefully.

“Of course,” the model said. “Just follow me, we’ll go somewhere a little more private.”

Ryuji pushed the implications of _going somewhere more private_ with this freaking super-model to the back of his head.

He followed the model through the maze of a studio, getting some looks from other employees (who Ryuji was pretty sure weren’t look at him) as they went.

“So I guess I should ask your name, instead of calling you Mr. Model or something,” Ryuji said as they walked.

“I’m Akira Kurusu, but Akira is fine,” Akira answered.

“Cool! I’m Ryuji by the way,” Ryuji added.

They started making their way up some stairs, getting even further from the main foyer.

“Yes, you’re the super sprinter Ryuji Sakamoto, I’ve seen you race,” Akira said almost nonchalantly. “We’re here.”

The door had the name _Akira Kurusu_ written on a cheesy looking gold star. So apparently they were going to be doing this in Akira’s private dressing room. Too bad Ryuji’s brain was still catching up after the last statement.

“YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!” Ryuji all but yelled in disbelief.

Akira opened the door with a smile, gesturing for Ryuji to enter. Ryuji complied, still staring at this cool famous model who somehow knew who he was.

“Well you are pretty well known you know?” Akira said, which was news to Ryuji. “And to be honest, I’m a fan of yours. I have been for a while.” This was even bigger news to Ryuji. “Not many runners can come back from an injury like yours, and now you’re closing in on some serious track-meet records. You were so close in your two hundred metre sprint last month.”

Ryuji probably looked like some type of fish, mouth opening and closing while his eyes stuck out of his head. He was too busy sorting through his thoughts to notice the light blush on Akira’s face.

In fact, Ryuji waited so long trying to re-learn how to form a sentence, his response was only a single word.

“Thanks.”

It came out as more of a cough than anything.

“Sorry if that came off as stalkerish, I didn’t want to freak you out,” Akira apologized, looking a tad bashful but still grinning at the blush on Ryuji’s face.

“No, it’s fine! I’m just a bit mind-blown I guess… didn’t think I was that popular or anything,” Ryuji rubbed his nose.

“Well I know a certain fan club that would disagree with you there,” Akira teased.

“F-fan club?” Ryuji stuttered. The only fan club Ryuji knew about was his mom and some close friends.

Running wasn’t really the most televised sport, so he had the right to be surprised alright!

Akira smiled at him, which didn’t help Ryuji’s brain processing speed, before changing the subject to the topic at hand.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to wait to ask for your autograph ‘till later, we don’t have too much time before you should probably get back,” Akira said. “So, let’s get started.”

With the prospect of his photoshoot back in Ryuji’s mind, he nodded, focusing on this lesson instead of the fact that he had _fans_ who were famous _models._

“Okay! Show me how it’s done!”

Nodding, Akira walked over to a large full-body mirror in the corner of the room, Ryuji following behind him. The mirror had a few pictures of Akira taped to it, but not the pictures you’d see of him in any magazines. They were selfies of him with people Ryuji didn’t recognize, or some were just images of cats.

“So here’s what we’re going to do—” Akira began, standing behind Ryuji and putting his hands on Ryuji’s shoulders, so Ryuji could get a full view of himself in the mirror. “—do you do any visualization stuff in your training or before races?”

“Yeah, one of my personal trainers is super into that stuff. I ain’t the best at it though, not good at controllin’ my brain too well,” Ryuji joked, cringing a little when Akira nodded instead of laughing with him.

“Well, I use visualization a lot. Especially when I get a new role,” Akira explained.

“Wait, you’re an actor too?!” Ryuji exclaimed, getting off track again.

Akira snorted.

“Yes, but don’t worry about that. So, I want you to look at yourself in the mirror, but I want you to visualize yourself getting psyched up before a race when you’re just stepping up to the starting block.”

“Okay,” Ryuji said, staring hard into the mirror. But the more he stared the more he just saw himself squinting instead of really visualizing what he was supposed to be.

“Don’t just use your eyes, think of how the atmosphere of the racetrack is. The different people around you, the sounds you hear, even the smell of your competitors,” Akira encouraged.

Ryuji snorted, “Got it.”

And the advice honestly did help. He’d been going to track meets since he was a little kid, and while the size of the events had increased as he moved up in the sport, the overall atmosphere wasn’t that different.

There were always people in the stands, with only a handful Ryuji recognized, but was always excited to see they came. The sound of the announcements was always muffled enough that it was hard to tell who was racing next, but the electronic starting pistol rang out clearly, deafening everything but the sound of his own heartbeat. There were always strong waves of anxiety coming from all the competitors to the point where Ryuji couldn’t tell if he was really that nervous, or just picking it up from someone else.

And of the course the adrenaline that persisted up until Ryuji was finally home after the competition was over, where the high ended, but in a way that left him satisfied and happy.

So when Ryuji caught his own eye in the mirror again, it was a sight he was both familiar and unfamiliar with.

The look in his own eyes was intensely focused, but accompanied by a small grin. He wasn’t tense, but neither was he relaxed.

He was ready.

“That was perfect Ryuji,” Akira said, reminding Ryuji that he was still there. “If you can tap into that head-space in your photoshoot, you won’t have any problems.”

Ryuji shook himself from the focused state, feeling a little off knowing how into the visualization he’d gotten.

“Wow dude, I can’t believe that worked,” Ryuji said honestly.

Akira hummed, moving away from Ryuji and toward a desk next to the mirror.

“But one question,” Ryuji continued. “The director said no smilin’, but I’m pretty sure I was just now.”

Akira began writing something on a piece of paper with an engraved pen.

“Don’t worry about the details, the director just doesn’t want you forcing a family picture smile. But a battle-ready look like yours, she’d be all for,” Akira said with his own grin.

Ryuji, once again at a loss for words at Akira’s statement, just watched on as Akira finished whatever he was writing. Akira then folded the paper tightly until it was the size of a nametag.

Now that Akira was facing him again, Ryuji found himself speaking.

“Uh, thanks again. If this all turns out, I’ll owe you more than just a drink.”

“Well this was my treat, so don’t worry about it,” Akira said. “I just hope it was useful.”

Ryuji was about to assure Akira that yes, he actually had an idea of what to do now, but Akira stopped him by holding out the neatly folded paper for Ryuji to take.

“Now you should probably be getting back before the director thinks you went home and calls the shoot off,” Akira said. “But take this, I wrote some tips that might help if you get stuck again.”

Ryuji took the paper gently and placed it in his pocket, careful not to wrinkle it.

“Wow, you’re seriously amazing dude,” Ryuji said, turning to leave with a little more urgency at Akira’s words. “Thanks for everything!”

Akira waved at him with a, “The pleasure was all mine,” before he was out of sight.

As he ran back to the set, Ryuji decided he would have to watch all the movies Akira was in. Because the guy was so nice and helped him out, not because Ryuji may or may not have developed a crush on the model/actor within the span of like twenty minutes.

When he returned, Ryuji was met by some very relieved faces (apparently Akira’s talk of the director thinking Ryuji left wasn’t too far from the truth).

Everyone was very keen to get back to work. The director even pulled Ryuji aside to ask how he was feeling, and to give him a few extra pointers. Ryuji, however, was ready to go, most of the nerves from this morning just a memory.

So with a few directions from the staff, Ryuji took his place in front of the greenscreen once more, feet firmly on the marked position. But this time, instead of feeling overwhelmed by the set-up or the eyes on him, Ryuji thought of the familiar smell of rubber track and the feeling of spiked cleats on his feet.

The rest of the shoot went somewhat smoothly after that. Sure, he didn’t always pose correctly and would lose his concentration here and there, but Ryuji was getting thumbs up from the director and no one was telling him to relax anymore. So clearly he was doing something right.

With a final shot where Ryuji had been instructed to lift his shirt as if to wipe sweat from his face (this pose wasn’t too hard, especially with the real sweat dripping from his brow), the director called it a wrap and made her way over to Ryuji.

“I don’t know how you did it Ryuji, but you did very well. A complete one eighty from this morning,” the director said. “We’ve got a lot of good shots here, so I think you’ll be excited to see the finished product.”

Ryuji smiled, accepting a water bottle being offered to him by another employee walking by.

“Well you guys did all the real work, not me. And I couldn’t have done it without some help,” Ryuji said.

“Oh? Did you get some tips from somewhere?” the director asked.

“Yeah! Akira really saved my ass; he even wrote me some more advice!” Ryuji explained (albeit somewhat vaguely), while digging for the paper in his pocket.

He would have read it earlier, but things were going well, and he hadn’t felt the need to. The paper seemed unharmed when Ryuji retrieved it, despite the dynamic movements Ryuji had been doing earlier.

“Wait… you mean Akira Kurusu? _The_ Akira Kurusu?” the director asked, eyes wide in shock.

Ryuji just nodded, not paying much mind to the director’s reaction, too focused on unfolding the paper in his hands.

“Yeah that’s him. He helped me do some visualizing stuff,” Ryuji explained. “Super cool guy, not anyone would go out of their way to help like that.”

The director’s eyes only widened more at that.

Akira did say he was a fan of Ryuji’s (yes, he was still digesting that piece of information), so maybe that was why Akira had agreed to help. Either way, Ryuji owed him big time.

“I wonder what he wrote in here?” Ryuji wondered aloud, just in time for him to open the page fully.

But instead of words on the paper, there were just numbers.

Or more specifically, a phone number.

_Oh._

Ryuji’s face went bright red.

He quickly folded the paper back up, but kept it firmly squeezed in his hand.

It looked like Ryuji would be able to pay Akira back for that drink sooner than expected.

**Author's Note:**

> Pegoryu week day 2 - Famous!
> 
> Ryuji's struggles in front of the camera is something I deeply relate to. I am honestly terrible.  
> And yes, Akira was secretly freaking out over meeting his celebrity crush the whole time, he's just good at keeping it under wraps.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading! Hope ya'll liked it!


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